


Questions and Curiosity (and Feelings)

by Fledgling



Category: One Piece
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 06:16:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12053061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fledgling/pseuds/Fledgling
Summary: Ace has always loved phoenixes, ever since he was a kid. Mythical creatures made of fire? Sign him up! So when he joins Whitebeard's crew and realizes that there's a phoenix on board, he's full of questions. Marco is amused, and maybe a little head-over-heels for him, so he makes him a deal: for every question Ace asks, Marco gets to ask him one in turn about himself.It goes exactly how you'd expect.





	Questions and Curiosity (and Feelings)

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so! Most of the questions Ace asks are either based on "facts" about phoenixes I found online, or ones I made up. Marco's answers follow a similar pattern.  
> Also, the implied child abuse is mainly just Marco realizing Ace had a really shitty childhood, nothing graphic.

“So, you turn into a phoenix?”

Marco looked up from the reports he was reading through, so engrossed in trying to decipher the poor handwriting on the page he hadn’t heard the other approach. Ace stood before him, looking sympathetically at the paper before turning his attention back to Marco.

“Yes, I can. Devil fruits will do that to you.”

Ace smiled widely. “That’s so cool!” He sat cross legged in front of the other commander, leaning forward. “I’ve always wanted to see one.”

“Always, eh?” Marco smirked, turning back to the papers in his lap. The breeze ruffled them slightly, but not enough to blow them away. It was a nice night, hence why Marco had decided to work on the deck instead of in his room.

“Yup. When I was growing up, I had a book about them. I read it so many times that I had it practically memorized.”

“I suppose you want to pester me with questions then?”

Ace looked a little sheepish, but the smile stayed regardless. Marco thought it was adorable, but then again, he had been thinking that a lot about the Second Division Commander lately. Among other things.

“No.”

Ace’s smile fell at the simple word, turning into a (also adorable) pout. Marco chuckled quietly.

“C’mon, Marco! Please?”

Marco shook his head. “I can’t just give up all my secrets.”

Ace looked at him, and the smile slowly found its way back to his face. “What about just a few? Besides, who knows how much of what I think I know is true?”

Marco looked at him and sighed. Ace had that look on his face, the one that said he wasn’t going to let something go easily, the one that said he felt he was being challenged. It was a dangerous look, Marco knew.

“You’re not going to give this up are you?”

Ace shook his head, and Marco crossed his arms over his chest.

“Alright, I’ll make you a deal. You can ask, but you have to answer a question of mine in turn. And only one question a week, I don’t want you bombarding me at all hours.”

Ace considered it for a moment, then smiled. “I can work with that.”

“Good. Also, you have to keep the answers to yourself. Obviously.”

Ace’s smile grew, and he nodded eagerly. “Can’t have all your secrets getting out, can we?”

Marco nodded back. “Nope. And I’ll hold you to that; any of what I tell you starts circulating around the ship, and I’ll toss you overboard.”

Ace laughed. “I would expect nothing less.”

Marco hummed, turning back to the reports he was trying to read. After a second he groaned, placing his hand over his eyes. “How can handwriting be this bad?”

Ace laughed, scooting over to look at the report with him. He tilted his head to the side, and made a surprised noise. “It’s because he’s left handed. Well, partially because of that. That’s why its so smudged, he drags his hand against the ink as he writes.”

Marco blinked, looking down at the page. The wobbly letters were rather smudged in places. He looked at Ace, who shrugged.

“I was born left handed. I got tired of smudging everything I tried to write and taught myself to use the other.” He scratched the back of his head. “The old man smacking for having bad handwriting probably didn’t help either.”

Marco nodded. “Well, that’s one way to do it.”

Ace nodded, then turned to Marco, mischief in his eyes. “So, since I told you something about me, can I ask you a question?”

Marco raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “I don’t believe I asked about you being a lefty.”

Ace pouted. “We can pretend you asked, yeah?”

Marco needed to build up a resistance to that pout, very quickly. Otherwise it was going to get him in a lot of trouble. “I suppose, for the sake of your curiosity.”

The smile returned, and he shifted so he was crouching, wrapping his arms around his knees. He stared at Marco, trying to think of a good first question to ask. After a while, enough time that Marco managed to finish deciphering the report, he spoke up.

“How close are you to an actual phoenix? Like, is it all physical, or are you a bird brain after all?”

Marco glared at him. “I think that was two questions.”

Ace shook his head. “Nah, one question, the second one was just to clarify.”

Marco rolled his eyes, but bumped his shoulder against Ace’s to let him know he wasn’t actually put out. He had learned quickly that Ace would often assume he was bothering him if he didn’t let him know otherwise, leaving him to sulk for a few days afterwards.

“It’s about a seventy-thirty split, yeah?” Marco started. “I’m still mostly human, but there are certain instincts, certain behaviors, that are from the phoenix. Of course, you’ve seen the physical changes.”

He could easily see that Ace wanted to ask more, the questions on the tip of his tongue, ready to go. But he stayed quiet, and Marco decided to humor him, just once.

(That was a lie. He was finding it harder and harder to deny Ace small things like this.)

“For example,” he said, watching amused as Ace perked up slightly, “I’ve been known to accidentally fall asleep while standing on one leg. In the middle of the deck.”

Ace snickered, but quickly bit down on the noise. “Just like that huh? You almost sound as bad as me.”

Marco nodded, wondering if he should have picked a better example; now that he had said it out loud, it sounded kind of lame. Ace was looking like he had just been told one of the greatest secrets in the world though, so maybe it wasn’t too bad of a choice.

“Oh, and by the way,” Marco said, waiting for Ace to turn to him before hitting him over the head, “don’t call me bird brain.”

  
Marco stretched his arms over his head, the muscles in his back tightening a fraction before loosening. Three different Marine ships, attacking them one right after the other (by pure coincidence, apparently) was enough to make anyone tense. Or maybe it was because he worried too much about his crew mates. He looked over the deck, watching everyone scurry around, trying to get the ship back in order. They hadn’t been too overwhelmed—they were the Whitebeard Pirates after all—but there were still wounded to treat and damage to repair.

“There you are.”

Marco watched Ace climb into the crow’s nest, a plate balanced on one hand. He looked up at Marco with one of his usually bright smiles, and though it didn’t mask the concern in his eyes.

“Thatch said he hadn’t seen you in the kitchen since the first attack, and that you probably hadn’t asked anyone to get you anything to eat either, so he sent me with this.” Ace gestured to the plate, holding it out for Marco. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a sandwich and some fruit, but Marco realized he was right and his stomach gave an wanting growl.

“Thanks, everything’s been so busy I hadn’t even noticed.” He took the plate, moving to sit and watching as Ace did the same. “So, Thatch asked you to bring it eh? Or did you offer?”

Ace laughed, nodding. “Yeah, I offered. Most of Second Division is fine, just bumps and bruises mostly, so I figured I’d come check on you instead.”

“I see.” Marco took a bite of the sandwich, listening for any sounds from below of something being amiss.

“So, mind if I ask another question?”

Marco raised an eyebrow, nodding after a moment. Ace smiled, though it wasn’t his usual, over the top grin. It was smaller, softer, and Marco wondered for a moment if anyone else got to see it besides him before realizing he was being a little ridiculous. Of course other people did, Ace had made fast friends with most of the crew. After he officially joined, anyway.

“So what happens when you get wet? Obviously you can’t go in the ocean, but what about rain? Does it hurt you at all?”

Marco tilted his head to the side. “Not really, not unless it’s a real downpour. Even then, it mainly just makes flying difficult. I actually like rain, honestly. I always have.”

Ace nodded, looking at him expectantly after a few minutes. Marco took another bite of his sandwich, waiting for Ace to say what he wanted to.

“Aren’t you going to ask me something?”

Marco hummed, remembering the deal they had made. He looked at the other, thinking of what to ask him, and felt his eyes drawn to the bright orange hat perched on top of his head.

“You never seem to go anywhere without your hat, and the one time that someone tried to snatch it from you you nearly burned the ship down. Why’s it so important to you?”

Ace reached up, touching the brim of the hat. After a moment he took it off entirely, staring at it. A fond look crossed his face, and he tossed the hat towards Marco, who caught it easily.

“It was a gift from my little brother. The only gift he ever gave me.” The fondness was quickly replaced by a frown. “It’s the only birthday gift I’ve ever gotten, actually.”

Marco frowned. “What? Why?”

Ace shrugged. “A lot of people don’t know my birthday, and those that do,” he ducked his head, “they don’t really care. Or didn’t, anyway.”

Marco growled, an angry, possessive fire burning in his chest. “Well that’s shitty. Everyone should get to celebrate their birthday.”

“Everyone?” Ace asked after a pause.

Marco was caught off guard by the hesitance in his voice, and he leaned down to get a look at Ace’s face. His breath caught at the pain he saw written so clearly there. The angry fire grew, and he had to reign in the urge to go find something to hurt.

“Yeah, everyone. Who the hell told you otherwise?”

Ace stiffened, and he shook his head. “Only one question a week, remember?”

Marco scowled, but understood that Ace wanted the question dropped. He looked at the hat he still held, noticing the careful stitches that riddled the entirety of it. It had been well cared for to have survived in tact for so long, especially with someone like Ace. He moved closer, until he was crouching right in front of the other, and waited for him to look up before putting the hat back on his head.

“Let me know when your birthday is coming up, yeah? I’ll have Thatch make you a cake, we’ll all get drunk, and we can start giving you some good birthday memories.”

Ace looked at him with wide eyes, but upon seeing the seriousness Marco was sure was written clearly on his face, he nodded. Marco smiled, tugging on the brim of the hat so it covered Ace’s eyes, chuckling as he sputtered and reached up to move it back. If he missed the worried look Marco shot him in the process, then that was perfectly fine.

  
It was three weeks before the two of them were alone once more, their duties as commanders taking up all of their time and when it wasn’t, there were other people around. Marco hadn’t realized how much he enjoyed spending time with Ace alone until he couldn’t.

Luckily, they were only a few hours out from their destination now, a town on a spring island, and everyone was eager to get to shore, save for those elected to stay behind and guard the ship. While Marco had expected to have to seek out the other, he was pleasantly surprised to find Ace waiting for him a little ways from the ship.

“Can I help you with something, Ace?”

Ace shrugged and said nothing, walking beside him as they headed into the town. It wasn’t huge by any means, but large enough that the crew could spread out and be relatively by themselves. Marco had intended to simply wander around, but paused as they passed by the road leading to the town square. He took a deep breath and let it out as a happy hum.

“Something up?” Ace asked.

Marco shook his head. “Nah, something just smells really damn good.”

Ace took a deep breath, his mouth turning up in a mischievous smile. “Cinnamon, eh?”

Marco glared at him, and Ace just smiled wider. He rolled his eyes, turning fully to face him and crossing his arms over his chest.

“So the whole building nests out of cinnamon thing—”

“Yes, that one is true.” Marco remembered very clearly how much of the stuff he had consumed after he had eaten the devil fruit, and how much he had been teased about it (all in good fun, but still). He had tamped down on the craving over time, but he still got excited every time he smelled it.

“That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

Ace snickered and took Marco’s hand in his, tugging him towards the smell. “Nothing wrong in indulging yourself every now and then, right?”

“I don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

“What, are you going to buy out everything they have?”

Marco glared at him, which only served to make him laugh harder. Ace let go of his hand once they were in the square proper, and for the first time in a long time, Marco felt cold.

“I guess that’s it.” Ace said, pointing to a bakery to their left. The door was wide open beside a wide window, and Ace began walking towards it eagerly. “You know, I’m not as huge a fan of cinnamon in particular,” Ace said, “but I love sweets.”

Marco grinned, not at all surprised. He followed behind him, the smell of cinnamon and other baked goods growing as they got closer. Through the window he could see a few small tables and chairs, all occupied, though he didn’t recognize any as part of their crew.

The inside was well lit and warm, with a long counter taking up one wall opposite to all of the tables. No one paid them any mind as they walked in, even as Ace eagerly began looking at the display cases built into the counter. He knelt down, smiling brightly, though he made sure not to touch the glass to avoid smudging it. He began pointing at different items within, looking up at Marco every so often with a comment or to ask his opinion on something. Marco couldn’t help but smile, enjoying seeing him so cheerful.

“Welcome!” A voice called, a man in an apron coming from around the corner to stand in front of them. “What can I interest you gentlemen in?”

Ace popped up, smile growing. “That cinnamon smell.”

The man laughed, and turned around to pull a tray from the shelves behind him. In the empty space, Marco could see into the kitchen, several people working over tables and ovens.

“This is a specialty of ours, its cinnamon bread. We’ve got ones with just cinnamon, ones with cinnamon and raisins, and ones with cinnamon and chocolate.”

Ace turned and looked at Marco expectantly, and Marco stared back, keeping his face as neutral as possible as he spoke.

“We’ll take all of it.”

The man looked at them and, realizing they were serious, laughed. “Wonderful! I’ll get them bagged up, just give me a moment.”

“Can you add a couple of these mini chocolate tarts as well?”

A laugh and a nod met them, and Ace turned to look at Marco. “Wait for me outside?”

Marco gave him a dubious look, but Ace let his smile change into a pout and Marco sighed, walking outside and leaning against the wall. He could hear the man and Ace talking, but he couldn’t make out the words, and a few minutes later Ace reappeared, smiling widely and handing him a paper wrapped loaf.

“Thanks Marco! C’mon, there’s supposed to be a park a few blocks down, we can eat there.”

Marco followed behind him, suddenly feeling like he was being taken on a date. He tore off a chunk of the loaf in his hand, popping it into his mouth. His eyes closed, and before he could stop it a pleased groan escaped him. He heard Ace stumble and choke on whatever he had been saying, and opened his eyes to see Ace looking at him incredulously. He cleared his throat, and Ace grinned.

“Maybe we should take this back to the ship instead.”

Marco rolled his eyes, tearing another piece off of the loaf and continuing in the direction they had been going. Ace caught up with him quickly, laughing and bumping into him.

“So is it that good, or is it just because it’s cinnamon?”

Marco handed him a piece, Ace thanking him as he took it. He hummed, nodding as he chewed.

“It’s good,” he said once he finished, “but I think you just really like cinnamon.”

Marco huffed, noticing they had arrived at the park. Ace led him towards one of the benches set off the path that ran through the small area, reaching into one of the bags as he sat down. He pulled out one of the tarts he had asked for, taking a bite of of it.

“Mm, these are good. Want to try one?”

Marco shook his head. “I think I’ve got plenty here. Also, you have some chocolate,” he tapped the corner of his own mouth, “here.”

Ace hummed, sticking his tongue out to swipe at the corner. It made him look a little ridiculous, and more than a little endearing.

“Your tattoo.”

Ace blinked, chewing the other half of the tart. He looked at his arm, then back to Marco.

“Did the tattoo artist fuck up spelling your name?”

Ace burst out laughing, but nodded regardless. “Yeah, apparently the island I got this done on spells ace differently than most. Although, I guess it was all bad.” He reach up, touching the crossed out ‘S’.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s like a… a tribute. To a very good friend of mine.”

“I see.” Marco shuffled closer, enough to press their shoulders together. “They’re dead, aren’t they?”

Ace nodded, a miserable look growing on his face. Marco tore off another piece of the cinnamon bread, noticing it was almost gone, and offered it to him. Ace smiled as he took it, though it wasn’t his usual cheerful one.

“Well, as long as you keep the memory with you, they’re not totally dead.”

Ace looked at him and scoffed. “I find that hard to believe.”

Marco shrugged. “We all die eventually, true. But we can also live on in the legacies we leave behind, the memories we leave with others.”

Ace hummed, reaching into the bag and pulling out another one of the loaves of bread. He handed it to Marco, tearing off a piece for himself. Marco grinned, noticing it was one of the loaves with cinnamon and chocolate in it.

“So you really like chocolate huh?”

Ace smiled, though his eyes remained shadowed by nostalgia for a moment before it faded into a cheerful expression. “Well, I’m not going to moan about it, but it tastes pretty damn good.”

Marco rolled his eyes, reaching up and tugging Ace’s hat over his eyes. “You’re not going to let that go are you?”

The mischievous grin that stretched across his face was all the answer Marco needed.

  
Marco landed with hardly a sound, shifting back into human form with a sigh. His chest and arms ached, the dull pain of well used muscles he always felt after a particularly long flight. The pain disappeared almost instantly as his regenerative powers kicked in, and he looked around. It was late, the sky covered in stars and shadows blanketing the deck. He wasn’t at all tired though, and instead let his feet carry him towards the crow’s nest, planning on letting whoever was on watch return to their bed.

“Glad to have you back.”

Marco grinned. “Glad to be back. Wasn’t expecting you to have watch tonight.”

Ace shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Took it over from Izo.”

Marco chuckled. “And here I was planning on taking it over from you.”

Ace grinned. “I wouldn’t mind some company, if you aren’t planning on getting any sleep either.”

Marco sat beside him. “So, what’s eating at you, little flame?”

It was a pet name he had come up with while under the influence of some very strong whiskey, one of the only things he had drank in recent memory that had actually managed to get him drunk. He couldn’t remember the exact context of why he had called Ace that, but Ace had sent him a beautiful, if somewhat bashful smile in turn. Ace had been rather far gone himself, but he still smiled when Marco called him that the next day, so he stuck with it.

“Just stuck in my own head. Nothing too serious.” Ace said, looking at the sky above them.

Marco hummed. “You shouldn’t lie to people who know you well. It’s very easy to tell.”

“How so?”

“You can’t look people in the eye when you lie.”

Ace chuckled softly. “Yeah, I guess I can’t.”

Marco watched him, and after a moment spoke. “What’s the happiest memory you have?”

Ace blinked, turning to look at him. “What?”

“When have you been the happiest in life?”

Ace hummed thoughtfully, turning back to the sky. “I don’t know. I’ve spent so much time hating everyone and everything,” he looked at Marco, “I guess having you all welcome me into the family is the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

Marco felt his breath catch in his throat. Ace smiled at him, and Marco smiled back, throwing an arm over Ace’s shoulders, pulling him close. He fit neatly against his side, and Marco felt something he couldn’t name warm his heart. They sat in silence for several minutes, until Marco gave Ace a little nudge.

“Aren’t you going to ask me anything?”

Ace shifted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is there really only ever one phoenix alive at a time?”

Marco frowned. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen another phoenix. But then again, I ate a devil fruit, so I might not count as an actual phoenix, if that is the case.”

Ace sighed. “I hope that’s not the case. It must be a pretty lonely life.”

Marco shrugged. “Well, if I am the only one, then I can happily say that I have a rather large group of family and friends to help ease any loneliness I feel.”

“That’s good. No one should be alone.” Ace bit his lip and looked at the sky once more. “Can I go ahead and ask another question?”

Marco looked at him, noticing the worry etched on his face. The stars shone in his eyes, and Marco thought the stars had never looked so beautiful. The warmth in his heart grew, and this time he could put a name to it.

Love. He had fallen in love with Ace.

“Just this once.”

Ace took a deep breath. “If you die, will you regenerate and come back to life?”

Marco felt his breath leave him in a rush. Ace was still looking at the sky, as if he was afraid to see the expression on Marco’s face.

“I don’t know the answer to that one either.” Marco said softly. “I’ve healed from some pretty nasty injuries before, a few that would definitely kill any normal person. I guess we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get there.”

Ace nodded, finally turning to look at Marco. Marco smiled, and Ace smiled back slowly.

“So, what’s your second question?”

Marco hummed, then shook his head. “I’ll give you one for free, since those weren’t very solid answers.”

Ace eyes widened a bit, and he settled a little more against Marco’s side. “Thanks.”

  
“Can phoenix tears heal any wound?”

Marco looked up, startled by the sudden question. Ace looked at him, eyes surprisingly bright for having just regained consciousness.

“You get whacked in the head by a Marine with a sea stone baton, remain unconscious for two days, and _that’s_ the first thing you have to say?”

Ace grinned. “The last thing I remember was seeing was you tackle said Marine to the ground, and then I wake up in the infirmary. I think it’s a fair question.”

Marco shook his head, shifting the the hard infirmary chair. “Only you, little flame. Anyway, since I can barely remember the last time I cried, I can’t give you a definitive answer. However, considering how quickly my body regenerates on its own, I wouldn’t be entirely surprised.”

Ace nodded. “That would be useful, if they did.”

Marco shrugged. “My turn then. Why do you always throw yourself in harm’s way to protect others?”

Ace frowned. “It’s my job to protect my division.”

Marco scowled. “You’re right. But you don’t need to protect me, and I’m the one the Marine was swinging at.”

Ace opened his mouth, then closed it. He stared at the ceiling, face scrunched in thought for a while before eventually sighing.

“I just don’t like seeing the people I care about get hurt. Not if I can help it.”

“I can immediately heal almost every wound I take.”

“Well I’m not used to that part yet.” Ace turned to look at him. “Besides, it’s pretty much habit at this point. Growing up, I had to protect Luffy from trouble at least twice a day.”

“I see.” Marco said, dropping the topic. Ace couldn’t look him in the eye for more than a few seconds, obviously leaving out something. Marco was reminded of when he had asked Ace about his hat, how someone had obviously told him at some point that some birthdays weren’t worth celebrating. That _his_ birthday wasn’t worth celebrating.

It wasn’t hard to connect the dots.

“You got told a lot growing up that your life didn’t matter, didn’t you?”

Ace stiffened, staring at him. Marco growled, that same possessive fire flaring to life inside of him.

“Look, whoever told you that was an idiot.” He said, and placed his hand over Ace’s mouth when he opened it to protest. “I’m serious. Your life does matter. It matters to Luffy and Pops, and me. And if the three of us aren’t enough to convince you, then there are plenty of other crew members on this ship that’ll back us up.” He removed his hand.

“That’s because you don’t know—”

“Know what, who your father is?”

Ace froze, and Marco sighed.

“Ace, I don’t care who your parents are. You’re Fire Fist Ace, you command the Second Division of the Whitebeard Pirates, and you’re a part of our family. That’s all that matters.” Marco smiled softly. “At least, that’s all that matters to me.”

Ace swallowed, and Marco could practically see the gears working in his head. “How did you know?”

Marco shrugged. “I asked Pops. I had a hunch you were hiding something, and I wanted to know in case whatever it was came up later, that way we could be prepared. I wasn’t expecting him to tell me that, honestly, but obviously it didn’t change how I thought about you.” He sighed and stood. “I’m sorry if you feel I’ve betrayed your trust, I know you didn’t want anyone to know. Let me go get the doctor for you.”

He felt Ace’s eyes on his back as he left the infirmary, and if he called his name, the Marco was going to pretend it was just someone outside, their voice muffled enough to sound like Ace’s.

  
The knock on the door to his quarters a few days later was a surprise, and when he opened it to see Ace standing there, carrying something wrapped in wax paper, he was even more surprised. The bundle was held out to him, and he took it. It was warm and smelled very strongly of cinnamon.

“I asked the baker for the recipe,” Ace started, “that’s why I asked you to wait outside. I wanted it to be a surprise.” He stumbled over the words, as if trying to speak them as quickly as possible.

Marco nodded, stepping back from the door and gesturing for Ace to come in. He shut the door behind them, and unwrapped the paper to tear off a piece of the bread.

“Thank you.” He said, offering a piece to Ace as well. “Though I didn’t know you baked.”

“I don’t. I had to get Thatch to teach me.” Ace smiled, though it was small and shaky. “At least I don’t have to worry about burnt fingers.”

“I see.” Marco set the bread on his desk. “Look, Ace, if this is about—”

“It is, but it’s not what you’re thinking.” Ace bit his lip. “I wanted to apologize.”

Marco frowned. “For what?”

“For not telling you about,” he made a wide gesture with his hand, “about me, about who I was.”

“You were under no obligation to tell me. And like I said, I honestly don’t care. I care about you for who you are, for the actions and decisions you make.”

“I know, and honestly it’s a little overwhelming. I’ve spent my whole life being told, directly or indirectly, I should have never been born, and to suddenly have so many people tell me otherwise takes some adjusting.”

Marco nodded. “I still don’t see why you’re apologizing though. I should be the one doing that.”

Ace shrugged. “It’s just, I feel like I’ve broken your trust. I know,” he said, holding up a hand to stop Marco from saying anything, “I know you’ll say it should be the other way around, but I can’t help it. I don’t know if I’ve ever trusted someone as much as I trust you, and to be hiding something so important.” Ace ran a hand through his hair, knocking his hat back to hang by his shoulders. “I’m just really bad at dealing with my emotions, yeah? I’m not even sure why I feel like this.”

“Because you’ve spent your whole life trying to apologize for your existence. And now that you have someone telling you its not necessary, you’re trying to find something else to apologize for.”

Ace sighed after a moment. “That sounds about right.”

Marco nodded, stepping backwards and sitting on his bed, patting the spot next him. Ace fell beside him, pressed against his side. He looked around the room curiously, and Marco realized that this was the first time the other had ever been in his room.

“So, little flame, is there anything else on your mind?”

Ace nodded, though he kept looking around the room. If Marco hadn’t been watching him, he probably would have missed the blush that crept across freckled cheeks.

“Do phoenixes mate for life?”

Marco raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just ask a while ago if there was only one phoenix in existence?”

Ace nodded. “Some people say that, yeah. Others say there are more than one, still not a whole lot, but that they mate for life like swans do.”

Marco hummed. The word ‘mate’ stuck in his head, and the increasingly familiar warmth in his heart he felt around Ace burst into a roaring fire, as if it had been waiting for this moment.

“Yes.” Marco said, a little breathless. “Yes, I—they do.”

Ace looked at him, swallowing nervously. He opened his mouth to say something, but Marco beat him to it.

“Can I ask you something?” At Ace’s nod, Marco leaned closer. “Can I kiss you, little flame?”

Ace nodded again and met him halfway, both of them sighing into the kiss. Marco let one hand come up to cup the back of Ace’s head, his fingers tangling in his hair. Ace moved closer, wrapping his arms around Marco’s neck. Marco let one hand fall to his hip, tugging gently until Ace was straddling his thighs.

Ace gasped, pulling away to look at Marco. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.”

Marco grinned. “Then why did you stop?”

Ace leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to Marco’s lips and then kissing a trail to his jaw, down his neck. He nipped at the skin there, watching as tiny blue embers appeared for a brief moment, then disappeared. Marco tilted his head back, exposing more of his throat for the other to have. It was a show of trust, one Ace didn’t miss, and he left a path of almost reverent kisses from one side to the other. Hands were moving along his sides, dancing over his ribs and down his abs, settling on his hips. His own hands found Marco’s chest, and he could feel a strong, fast heartbeat underneath.

“Marco.” Ace whispered against his lips.

“Ace?”

Ace pushed himself back, staring at the other. Marco was watching him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered, and it made his breath catch in his throat.

“Can I—?”

Marco nodded. “Whatever you want, little flame.”

“I don’t—,” Ace bit his lip, “can I stay here? At least for tonight?”

Marco smiled, pulling him down and kissing him softly. “Like I said, whatever you want. I’m just happy to finally have you as mine.”

Ace relaxed, leaning forward and resting his forehead against Marco’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Marco ran a hand down his back, fingertips dancing along the dip of his spine. “You are welcome here tonight, and every night after.”

Ace smiled, pushing against his chest until he was lying flat. Ace followed, shifting until his head was resting where his hands had been, tangling their legs together. Marco let his hand slip up his back, tangling his fingers in dark hair.

“Thank you, Ace.”

“For what?”

Marco sighed happily. “For being here. For being mine.”

Ace smiled. “I’ve been yours all along.”

Marco turned onto his side, wrapping his arms around Ace and hugging him close. “You’re going to have to tell me if I start getting clingy.”

Ace laughed, though it turned into a yawn. “I can handle that. So, are we gonna tell everyone else?”

Marco chuckled and pressed a kiss to his forehead, then another one to his lips. “Nah, let them figure it out on their own. Well,” he shrugged, “except Pops. Probably should tell him.”

Ace nodded. “He probably already knows. He knows everything.”

“That’s because I tell him.”

Ace snickered. “Yeah, I can believe that.” The end of his sentence was punctuated with another yawn.

Marco smiled, shifting to get more comfortable. “Go to sleep Ace. We’ll deal with telling Pops in the morning.”

Ace nodded, letting his eyes fall closed. In seconds he was asleep. Marco watched him for a moment, appreciating the peaceful look on his face, before snagging the blanket from the end of the bed and throwing it over them. They’d tell Pops in the morning; for now, Ace was all his.


End file.
